


Pot

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Gen, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 06:37:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20887736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Gladio tries to make a cup of hot chocolate.





	Pot

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

“I’m gonna make hot chocolate,” Gladiolus says, before Ignis shoots him a level _look_ that says it all. Gladiolus shrinks back from the cupboard and corrects himself to, “_Can_ I make some hot chocolate?”

Ignis agrees, “You _may_.” Of course, there was no scenario where he’d refuse, but he does appreciate being asked. He’s trying to drill into Gladiolus’ head that manners are important, and his home requires them, no matter how close they become as friends. At least Gladiolus is picking up on it faster that Noctis—Noctis still walks all over Ignis, probably just because he can. 

While Ignis stirs their rice pasta on the stove, Gladiolus gets out the cocoa powder, xylotol, and soymilk. It’s not the pre-made mix he’s used to, but he doesn’t complain. He’s already getting a free dinner. 

He goes to the dish cupboard next, pulling out a mug and asking, “Can I use this one?”

Ignis glances over. The mug in Gladiolus’ hands is an old chipped, worn, and faded thing, over ten years old and sloppily done—the paint job is atrocious. Ignis can still remember watching the ruined blush drag a murky brown-blue across the bottom.

He’d reminded Noctis, _“You have to wash your brush in between strokes,”_ but Noctis had just pouted.

_“I know how to do it.”_

_“Noct...”_

The teacher had come over, probably because of the look on Noctis’ pinched face. She’d paid more intention to him than any of the other children, and she’d told him in a put-on saccharine voice, _“That looks perfect, Your Highness!”_

Noctis hadn’t smiled at her. Even then, he’d known when people were lying to him. He’d sullenly stopped painting and rattled his brush around the dirty water, cleaning it off as Ignis told him. Ignis had swallowed his proud smile and not said anything more about it. His own mug had much cleaner lines, and his paint colours were brighter, more vivid from being kept properly apart, but there were gaps of pure white ceramic all over his canvas, because he spent too much time looking over at Noctis’ cup. Noctis had painted a wonky fish and asked, _“Iggy? Does that look right?”_

_“Yes, although I would add eyes.”_

_“I was gonna do that!”_ He’d added eyes. He’d drawn little misshapen bubbles, then given the fish two black eyes and a stick between them. It had taken Ignis several looks to realize that those were glasses. 

By the time that the king arrived to pick them up, the rest of the class had filtered out. The teacher had stayed for her prince, of course, politely pretending the class was always supposed to be that long. Noctis’ entire mug was covered in sprinkles, though he’d still told his father, _“I’m not finished yet.”_ Ignis’ wasn’t finished at all.

They both got fired up in the kiln, while the two of them stayed back and answered his majesty’s question—did they like the class? Did they want to go again? Ignis knew that he was only there for Noctis: that this was Regis’ way of ensuring his son had a friend, and maybe a protector. Ignis was the oldest one in the class. But he had enjoyed it. Noctis didn’t want to go back, so Regis had suggested they try a different activity next week, but that it was good for Noctis to try different creative outlets.

When their mugs were finished, Noctis had shoved his into Ignis’ hands and said, _“Here. You can have it.”_

Ignis had swelled with gratitude but said, _“That’s okay. You should keep it.”_

But Noctis stubbornly insisted, _“I made it for you.”_

So Ignis had given him a hug and kept it. He always will. Noctis chipped it two years ago by stuffing it in the dishwasher wrong, but it’s still usable. Even if it wasn’t, Ignis would keep it. 

Gladiolus presses, “Iggy?”

Snapping out of his reverie, Ignis answers, “No, you can’t,” and goes back to dinner.


End file.
